The Darkest Night

by Catherine Wilson

  I’ve only made it a few steps when my face slams into a broad chest, and two warm hands reach out to steady my shoulders before dropping away. Heat of a different kind sizzles at the loss of their touch. “Are you always like this? One minute looking as though you’re pondering the meaning of life, while the next walking around like some lifeless doll? If that’s the case, I’m going to reconsider the amount of effort this little pet project is going to take.”

  Aras’ lazy eyes glide over my face while his lips beam wide, making his dimple seem perfect and terrible all the same. I fight to steady my breaths.

  Truly. Why must the stars hate me so?

  “Perhaps you should consider asking Knox for better perks,” I spout with little care, as if the very closeness of him isn’t enough to make me latch onto his waist and hold tight like a lunatic who will never let go. “Yesterday I heard Hammel was granted a greater amount of Father’s magic. He threw a flaming fireball up to the sky to see what it would do. Burned a hundred trees on its way down, but boy did it look pretty. I’m sure Knox would consider doing you a favor for all of your hard work. Even better, why don’t you run along and ask him now so I can get some rest?”

  I move to make my way up the beckoning stairs, but he only settles back before me, blocking my path once more. All of which would be very infuriating if I didn’t know he was out of his mind and I didn’t still care for him so.

  “Why, Penelope Brave,” he drawls, narrowing his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that you are slightly less vexing when you jest? I’m quite astounded, really. I wasn’t aware you had any redeeming traits in you, considering your mother’s background.”

  “Unfortunately for you, Aras, I wasn’t jesting. But I guess for someone whose very thoughts are ruled by a madman, it was a good guess,” I reply with ease, all the while hoping to avoid his scrutiny. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  This time when I start for the stairs, he doesn’t object, only falls in line with my awkward steps. Though he doesn’t say a word as we wind through the halls, I feel his gaze along my cheek—not quite as distrustful as it was in the throne room, but unfriendly all the same. It’s a look I never thought I’d feel. Not from my Aras.

  “Are you walking this fast because you’re angry, or are you excited to tell you sister the good news?”

  I come to an abrupt stop. “And what good news would you be referring to? I must say there was very little time for sharing during my visit with Knox, considering he was trying to burn my flesh and all.”

  Once again, Aras’ cool eyes narrow, making me feel as though I’m the one harboring secrets. “Don’t try that nonsense with me. I think we both knew it was coming, based on your ill-advised adventure alone.”

  For a moment, my breath stutters—all witty replies vanishing into the open hall while he watches for even the barest hints of knowledge to spark across my face. Aras doesn’t speak of Knox; he speaks of the missive. The very missive that has my name on it, and if he doesn’t stop with the teasing speeches, I may have to squeeze the information out of him.

  Very tightly, and forever, perhaps.

  When I don’t respond, Aras lowers his chin, torturing me with those perfect eyes hooded under those equally perfect lashes. “You can’t mean to tell me that you don’t know,” he says with measure, as if he’s positive I’m jesting once again.

  If only he knew that my name mixed with the kingdom of Theron is no jesting matter. Not when there’s expected fire, death, and dark magic involved, at least.

  Tilting my stance ever so slightly, I leer in the face of his confusion. “And you can’t tell me that I do,” I say, springing forward on my toes and leaving him behind.

  “Hey,” he yells, rushing to catch up. “I was trying to have a serious conversation with you!”

  A crazed laugh threatens to bubble in my throat, but I clamp it down, determined to remain the sane one of this little duo. Making a sharp turn to the left, I cast a glance over my shoulder as I round the hallway to my chambers. “I hate to have to be the one to inform you of this Aras, but serious is something you’ve never been.”

  Aras’ only response is a growl as I skid to a stop and lean against the much-sought-out comforts of my wooden door. I don’t know if Vivi is waiting for me today, but for the sake of her sanity and Aras’ well-being, I hope she’s not.

  “Don’t do that,” Aras seethes, yanking my elbow with a painful twist and nearly pulling me into his heaving chest.

  “Run?” I huff, tearing my arm from his grip. “What else am I supposed to do? Is it not painstakingly obvious that I don’t wish to be within your midst?”

  His mouth produces an awful scowl, and his eyes crinkle dangerously at the edges. “No, Penelope Brave, I couldn’t care less about having to chase you down through these halls, because you’ll never get away. At least not while I’m around.”

  “Well, if that’s the case…” I say thinly, turning to place my hand on the door.

  This time when he catches my arm, it’s not the pressure that hurts, but the emptiness of his touch. “Don’t act like you know me, because you don’t.” The anger in his eyes fades, resigning into something else—something I fear is reflected in my own. “You never knew me, and you never will. Are we clear?”

  Knox’s final words try to claw their way to the front of my mind, wishing nothing more than to see me come undone, but for once, I’m not the least bit unsettled. Instead, I’m weightless, as if a heavy rock has been removed from my grieving chest. Because now I know these awful words don’t come from a place of hate. Deep down, they come from a place of uncertainty. A place full of faded memories and painful truths. They come from a place of love. And even though Knox aimed to hurt, he gave me the one thing I needed the most. The very thing I was lost without.

  He gave me hope.

  So as long as Aras haunts me through these halls, even when he hates the very breath I breathe, I won’t give up on him. I won’t lose this tender faith. He’s already lost too much on my account, and more than anything, I aim to make him found.

  “Perfectly,” I whisper, watching his anger squirm underneath the soft resignation of my voice.

  He stares at me, scanning my face as he tries to unravel and make sense of this tangible change between us. But then he looks away, stepping back into the open hallway, and our heat extinguishes with him.

  “Good,” he says, clearly pleased I’ve seemed to abandon any and all awkward acknowledgement of our past. “But that still doesn’t explain your reaction. One would think courting your Theron prince would be a dream come true.”

  My mouth opens to work with an angry gasp, but any other reaction I wish to convey is stalled the second Vivi opens the door.

  Seven

  “And what exactly would be Brave’s dream come true?” Vivi asks, wrapping a protective arm around my waist and pulling me into the room. “Please tell me, brother, as you obviously know her better than anyone else in this castle.”

  Aras meets Vivi’s words with a glare that I fear may light her on fire, his tall frame advancing toward the door. “Don’t call me brother, you spoiled, little brat.”

  “Then stop acting like one.” She grins almost wolfishly, slamming the door in his face and turning the lock with a satisfying click.

  Falling back against the wood, her eyes flash with a sudden sadness, and I fight the urge to rush to her side, knowing my sympathy isn’t what she really needs right now. At least, not yet. My little sister is a strong one—as fierce as they’re built. I have no idea what it must feel like for her to see Aras go through this. I only knew him for several weeks before he was lost to me. I can’t imagine having known him my whole life.

  As I blink away the sorrow, a steely resolve builds in its absence.

  “Whew! You have no idea how good it feels every time I do that. It almost takes away the pain of having to look at such a poor excuse for a sibling.”

  “I can still hear you, Viviana,” Aras grumbles from the hallway
.

  “And I completely meant for you to,” she sings, pressing her cheek against the door and flashing her eyes back to me. “Skies above! Even as a soulless monster, some things never change.”

  “Viviana—”

  “Oh, now you’re just being annoying!” She balls her hands up into adorable little fists, marching away from the door and pulling me to her side. Together, we make our way to the open balcony, assured if we’re ever truly going to find our privacy, this is it. “So, how did it go?” she whispers, button nose crinkling as she takes me in. “Wait—are you blushing?”

  “No.” I groan, looking out into the dry, dusty courtyard. “Aras asked the same thing. I’m not sure what I ever expected to look like after using Mother’s power, but slightly blue and tinged with heavy splotches of red wasn’t it.”

  Vivi’s eyes bulge, and any remaining sadness over Aras’ disposition is wiped clean from her expression. “You blocked him?”

  “I didn’t have much choice, seeing as he was burning holes into my skin.”

  Her fingers dart out to touch my chin, sliding across and tilting me in every direction until she’s satisfied I’ve managed to walk away from yet another meeting with our father unharmed. With a cluck of her tongue, she backs away, planting her tiny arms across her chest. “But you did block him, yes?”

  I lean on the rail, a small tick of agreeance tilting my chin. Silence devours us as I gaze out into the mess that Knox has allowed his grounds to become. The dying, tangled bushes look up at me, mocking my heart with a vision of what’s to come, and my eyes briefly flutter closed. It’s not that I don’t share in Vivi’s excitement, because I do. It’s the worry that, like Mother, I, too, won’t be able to prevent his wrath from consuming someone else. Someone whom I’m sure he won’t mind testing soon. Someone I fear might be my sister. And if what Aras was alluding to is true, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hang around in Orien to protect her.

  “Don’t seem so gloomy, Brave. Yes, Aras is still a horse’s backside, and Father tried to burn you again, but we must focus on the good. The bright, in this dreary place we call home. Mother lives, Brave. Theron has saved her, and now, it’s our turn to save us all.”

  Vivi’s sure voice rings as it always does—full of truth, power, and life. If there is anyone who could save us now, deep down, I know it’s her. Magic or not, it will always be her. Small but mighty, she is our strength, and I’d do anything to see her take flight.

  “If you believe we can do this, Vivi… if you believe we can defeat our father and make the world right again, then I’ll follow you. I’ll follow you to the very stars above and back. The only problem is,” I say, turning to place my hands upon her shoulders, “I’m not sure how long I have left here in Orien. I didn’t tell you this, but when we were in Father’s chambers, I saw a missive addressed to Theron. A missive with my name on it.”

  “And is this the dream come true Aras so alluded to?” she asks, chewing on her lip as she links these newest events together.

  “I think so,” I say, dragging my words out into the air as if I still don’t quite believe them myself. “But now I’m worried because Knox knows of my magic. He’ll be testing the fire, and this time, he won’t take no for an answer. No matter what.”

  Vivi’s shoulders fall, as if she fully expected this outcome, and I drop my hands, turning back toward the dead garden. “Once you leave for Theron, you can’t let his threats force you into doing something you know you shouldn’t. You’ll fight for Theron, Brave, and you’ll fight for us, no matter what our crazy father says.”

  “And if he says he’ll harm you, or Aras, or even the people of Ashen, what should I do then? You can try to convince me all you want, Vivi, but I’ll hand over my life before he so much as touches yours.”

  “Oh, sister,” Vivi says, pulling up to the rail and playfully bumping my shoulder with her own. “You forget that his powers have surrounded me all of my life, yet here I stand, not a single hair harmed. I know you don’t believe me, but I have my own ways of protecting myself, and I’m not afraid of him. Not anymore, at least. Besides, you’re worried for nothing, since I fully intend on coming with you.”

  “Is that so?” I ask, glad we find ourselves on the same line of thought. “And how do you expect us to convince our brute of a father to let you go?”

  “Oh, that part is simple, really. All we need to do is have a little talk with Bates.”

  “Hmm,” I muse, still not sure where Bates’ strange allegiances lie, but willing to trust him all the same. “A talk with Bates might be worth a try, but I can guarantee he’s not going to like it.”

  “I know, Brave,” she says with a grin. A blooming flower amongst the dead. “And that’s what makes it so fun.”

  Eight

  “I’m not sure if Sireen has somehow managed to slip you some of your father’s spirits, girls, but surely even then you could hear the nonsense that babbles from your mouths.”

  Bates sits like a pillar of stone across from us in the large sitting room that faces the courtyard, the only other free place in this massive castle we’re allowed to explore with someone on Father’s list of approved escorts. When we awoke this morning to find a sulking Aras stationed bright and early outside our door, Vivi quickly slammed it and called for Sireen. By requesting Sireen to find Bates and ask him to accompany us to the sitting room, we were hoping to avoid the watchful eyes of Aras, which, so far, we’ve managed to allude. Although, from the looks of this conversation with Bates, we were probably better off fighting a losing battle with our mindless friend.

  “Oh, come on, old man.” Vivi groans, and I can’t help but wince at her choice of words. “You act as if you’ve never taken part in any secrets in your long life. Based on your recent actions alone, I know you’re not as evil as you make yourself out to be.”

  Bates’ lips press into a thin line, and his cheeks turn a prickly shade of red.

  “What she means to say, Bates,” I cut in, sure he’s about to call Aras into the room and let his tortures begin, “is we now understand why Mother trusted you so much. Even though you put up a—how should we say this? A more difficult exterior? We know that underneath it all, you want what’s best for everyone, the present princesses included.”

  Bates lets out a long breath as his eyes tip up to the arched ceiling, and the light from the tall windows shines against the growing stubble of his cheeks. Dark circles have formed under his eyes, and for the first time, a spark of worry settles in my chest.

  Bates hasn’t gotten much rest of late, and I have a horrible feeling it may be because of us.

  “We know it must sound like we’re asking for a lot,” Vivi hedges after a long silence stretches between us. “We honestly didn’t have anyone else to turn to, and I won’t let Brave go alone.”

  What she doesn’t add is I won’t let her stay here alone either. Vivi assures me I have nothing to fear. She’s been doing fine for might as well say fourteen years without me. But I still can’t get over my last conversations with Papa and Aras in the woods. They were adamant Vivi needed my protection, and, despite her misgivings, I’m adamant that I follow their wishes.

  “Fine,” Bates caves, slapping his hands across his knees and rising before us. “I suppose I could mention something to Knox about Viviana coming along, if Brave is actually destined for Theron. However, I will also insist I join you. There is no sense in allowing one heir to stumble around in the woods for several days, much less two. You’ll need a guide, and I’m sure he’s already decided for me to go along anyway.”

  In an instant, we’re both on our feet, poised to rush Bates with an awkward hug, when a look of outright horror crosses his face. He’s willing to help us, it seems, but any other signs of affection are out of the question. Rather than pushing our luck, we settle for bright smiles, which are met with an even greater look of unease.

  Apparently, he’s not used to us smiling, either.

  “Are you done here,
Bates?” Aras calls, pushing through the heavy doors with a wide-eyed Sireen in tow. “The king requests your presence immediately, and you don’t want to be late.”

  Bates meets Aras’ cocky speech with a measured look of his own. Then he bows, turning to take his leave. Ignoring Bates’ exit completely, Aras continues his casual walk to our side and plops down on the blue-cushioned chair his fellow guard left behind, propping his boots up on the low table settled in the middle of the room.

  Fighting to ignore his fiery presence altogether, I meet Sireen’s gaze with as pleasant of an expression as I can manage. “Why Sireen, Vivi and I were setting out to look for you. We were wondering if you might gather us a nice picnic to enjoy in the dead garden outside.” I motion toward the wide windows. “It may not hold the prettiest view, but at least it’s a break from our chambers.”

  Aras listens with feigned interest as he balances his chin on the lazy hand he’s propped along the arm of the chair. Today, he’s dressed from head to toe in a sleek black tunic and matching, trim pants. The fabric winds tightly around his frame, cut off neatly at the shoulders, making him look very much like that fateful day when we first meet in the woods. At the time, I had jokingly asked him if he was trying to imitate a stealthy, black cat. Now, I’m not so convinced that he isn’t.

  “I sure hate to disappoint, Penelope Brave,” he croons, a ring of mock sympathy saturating his voice. “But I’m afraid Sireen isn’t going to be able to follow through on your request.”

  “And why is that?” I bristle, worried our little stunt in Knox’s chambers have finally caught up to her. My eyes raise in question to meet Sireen across the room, and her head shakes with the slightest of movements.

  Good. At least she’s not being pulled into this mess because of my past transgressions.

  “Because,” Aras says, stretching the word across his tongue, “she’s going to be much too busy preparing you for dinner with the king.”

  “Dinner?” Vivi and I huff, a matching look of horror coating our faces.